


Preservation

by Chimata



Series: Breaking the Cycle [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel Barry, Angel/Demon Relationship, Demon Leonard Snart, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-08-12 23:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20164519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chimata/pseuds/Chimata
Summary: It is amazing what you can adapt to. Getting bored by your entire existence's slow death. Eternally repeating the same day. It sucks and Len needs an out. A plan. Except he's got nothing. Absolute nothing. Might as well start wishing for some Goddess intervention...What's that saying about karma and whishes, again? Well, he'll make it work in his favor. Probably.(I will take tag recommendations, I really suck at tagging. Seriously.)





	1. Roots & Branches

**Author's Note:**

> This is not based on Good Omens. I know it’s an angel and a demon. And Tumblr is all Good Omens right now. But I swear I had the idea before I even knew the book existed and before the show aired.  
This is, however, based off of a fusion between Wish by CLAMP and Wedding Peach by Nao Yazawa. But I came up with the plots. Okay. Just keeping the record straight.   
I actually really like Wedding Peach. It's not a masterpiece but it's a fun read.

"Might as well be a colored happy ending in a fairytale book." Len freezes a single leaf. Tugging it free. Breaking it really. Into ice particles that no longer resemble its starting point. He dusts off his hands as the ice becomes water. Behind him, his frozen steps are already melting. Despite the strong shuddering wind of the Underworld rushing past from the left open gate. Onyx steps demanding attention among all the green.

"What am I even doing here?" Talking to himself. In this place. No place for a demon.

There is no answer. Only the insane would expect one. Like Axel. A recent annoyance that Len's been ignoring. Not much he can do. Despite the fierce to chuck the chirping demon off the nearest cliff. And with the self-evident knowledge that it be one of the most satisfying acts he ever performed. Standing against this brilliant plan is Lisa. Who finds Axel amusing. He never did understand her tastes.

Ah. Doesn't matter. Except that Lisa's general existence is why he is here. Talking to himself. Counting trees. Two hundred and forty-four in total. Eighty-one on Len's side. Hundred and sixty-two on the other side. And one giant tree that stands in the center. Shading the bridge that connects to the two sides. Each tree perfectly spread three inches apart. Probably following some pattern that Len can't see. Well, without getting a different perspective. Bird's view one could say.

Not that he cares enough to try.

All in all, it's just some symbol of peace. Or something equally ridiculous. Intending to remind the non-existent ambassadors their purpose for being here. 

His fingers itch. To turn the whole landscape into glittering spikes of ice and frost plains. To create cracks. Imperfections. To scar this divine masterpiece. Everything deserves, or better yet needs, a fear of death. Nothing of the flesh lasts.

He doesn't. The trees and grass continue to remain ignorant of the tainted and ugly. A blank page. With a bridge at its center.

Said bridge has some vague interest. The sole non-plant existing in this place. A realm created just for this particular bridge. Whispered, gossiped about, to be carved by the denizens of both the Upperworld and the Underworld. Supposedly a written of both realms. The little carved beings mean nothing to him. A charming and expensive fairytale. Flourished with a painted landscape.

The light that illuminates this box, which doesn't travel across the sky, as it should, bounces around one specific spot. Len's goal post. Sitting pretty where the babbling brook meets wooden stairs. Stairs that rise far past Len's pay grade and decorated by a selection of fully bloomed flowers. Representing every color of the rainbow. Eternally blooming, if the sun's lack of movement is anything to go by. Len would take that bet for sure.

Finally, resting at the bottom step is Len's actual goal. Aether crystals. Or pebbles really. How much aether must be growing in the Upperworld for even the very edges of the realm to be graced with aether? If he could get close. If he could gather a satchel or two. Only if. That's all he has- 'ifs.' Problems and 'what ifs.'

**\---**

"Lenny."

"Lisa."

Mick grunts his own form of greeting. Taking his place on Len's right. With a beer and something far too oily. That greasy stink invades his nose.

"Now, Lenny. Don't you have something more to say to your dearest sister."

"Not that I can recall." He flips the page of his book. Not paying attention to the scrawl on the page. He's read it all before. He'll reread it all. Turning the pages backward or forwards doesn't change much. Except to act as a distraction.

"You went to the Bridge."

"Did I?"

"Again! It's suspicious."

Len raises a pointed brow. "How?"

"Canoodling."

"I'm the only one up there."

"Most don't know that. Most don't go up there, Lenny. There's no reason too."

"So?"

"So. Lenny. Why are you going up there?"

Mick grunts. Unaware that Risa was planning an ambush interrogation. Usually ruins his beer. That lets Len relax. Not planned. Only one of Lisa's impulses.

"To think."

"About?"

"Life. The Universe. Everything." A 'what if' here and there. Nothing that requires much effort or care.

"How predictable." Lisa huffs as if directed by a direction in a play. Crossing her arms with a sharp look. "Do you think they're real?"

At one point, maybe. "As real as the three goddesses."

Lisa slumps into her seat. "How boring."

"Most things are. For you."

Lisa glares. Would melt and shrivel anyone who wasn't Len or Mick. Len smiles, pleased. If anything else Lisa can survive.

**\---**

Today Len follows the river that flows past the stairs. Wide and deep. Ready to devour anyone at the smallest sign of weakness. Threw a bottle into the river's thrashing current. A test of a sort. Without much pause, it was smashed to pieces on the river's rocks. To be expected, that on his side, the river is a tale of caution. While on the other, it feeds into the lake, where the bridge sits, only to transform into a singing brook. On the other side. An ideal location for a picnic, to gather water, or cool off.

Considering the numerous trees on the other side, the water must feed underground. Nurturing the land. Len should plant something. Like snowdrops.

His side has rocks. Rocks last, at least.

Exploring finished, not that there's much to see. Len sits under the largest central tree and counts. Counts the clouds. The rocks. The trees. The numbers never change. He'd count the animals. But he's never seen any. If you pressed him, he couldn't say for sure if even the trees and grass were alive.

**\---**

A demon, covered in putrid aether crystals, reaches towards him. Eyes glazed over. Pleading. Praying. As if anyone is listening.

Len steps out of reach. Dismisses the sight. "Peek-a-Boo. Got the stuff you ordered."

"Thanks, Cold. You need anything?"

"Nah. Heatwave's been pretty stable lately."

"Good. Good." She disappears with the package. Reappearing with a blink. "Things have been good this month."

Len shrugs. "Do you only have the one harvest?"

"I had more. About a moon or two ago. Ended up dusted. Useless. Only got the one left. And I think their core is partially eaten."

"Ah. Are you good…?"

"Got plenty of aether, Cold."

Len nods. Peek-a-Boo isn't all that powerful. But she isn't in any danger of becoming a harvest either. Not with Len's protection. He gives a two-finger wave. His business, done.

**\---**

First couple of times he'd thought he would see one. Fluttering down to vacation or something. Kept a constant eye on the other side. Feeling bare without Mick at his back. Nothing ever showed. Not once.

**\---**

"Len. Serious-time. What's the draw?" Lisa's painted nails clack against the table.

"The silence." Could their end be just as beautiful?

**\---**

Len brought a book this time. Three actually. Read them all before. And before. Repeating a particular book based on his mood. Which he isn't sure of this time around. Old lore, maths, or the History of the Divines. The last one he only read once. A silly book with the same tendency towards the truth as Len. Filled with cardboard tropes of the self-righteous and fragile unable to survive.

Real or only a fairytale?

**\---**

"You're reading up there now?"

"Reading where? Where are you going, Cold?"

"Quiet Axel."

Axel hums. The insane know no fear. Not even of his sister.

"It's a secret," Len hums in return.

"Secrets are fun."

Not particularly. Secrets are only useful if all that know it are dead. And Len actively strives against that particular outcome. Even for Axel.

**\---**

Finished with his book. But ready to head back. The lake is the same blue as always. The wind rustling the leaves like that song that always gets stuck in your head. Except louder…

"Crap. Sorry."

Something smacks Len's head. Causing him to pull back and hits his head on the tree. Fuck. The same something scrambles around Len's lap. Pushing it back, he meets a fairytale.

From the tree. Or the sky. Fell a divine onto Len's lap. Red wings still flapping erratically. Tangled by some caple. And attached to a figure.

"What the fuck?"


	2. Blooming Lotus

“I’m sorry. I can explain. I swear. I didn’t mean to fall on you. Okay. These things happen. And I swear I was just trying to set up my stuff. Tricky thing. The setup. Not that you care. Or should. I mean. Why would you?”

The wings continue to flutter. Close to Len’s face. The tips almost brushing his skin. He could count every ruby feather and tally up its value. 

“Especially with how rude I’ve been. I am sorry. Did I say that already? I’ll get out of your hair. Man. Did I ruin one of your books? I am. So. Sorry. I’ll get you a replacement. I swear. On my honor. Sir…” 

The body swings around. Wings thrashing around with the same rhythm. Wings that fit perfectly on the naked back spreading taunt in Len’s lap. 

“Are you real?”

“Am I?” Wings spread wide. As the attached body straightens. Jade eyes meet Len’s. “Oh my. I am still in your lap. I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I can be a bit of an airhead.” The body scrambles off Len, wings wiggling up and down.

“No problem. Accidents happen.” Words spill forth without choice. Anything to silence the noise. He needs to think. A feather was left unremarked upon his knee. A feather as red as can be. That Len spins between his thumb and forefinger. Solid and reflecting light.

Not exactly his usual dream. Could be drugged.

“Are you okay…?”

“Peachy,” Len grins. The one Mick refers to as his ‘wanting to start something’ grin. Personally, Len thinks a more accurate title would be his ‘keeping demons on their toes’ grin. And Lisa as yet to comment. Rather unlike her.

“Right. Well. I’m sorry. Again. Felicity is always saying that I can’t tell my limbs from the wall or the furniture. Or the door. Or the stairs. Anyway. Bruises are hardly the worst life can give.”

“True.” Life does indeed have an assortment of packages, each it’s own fruit salad of surprises and pain. A fine system as any. Although. Len would like to lodge a complaint. A small thing really. But ice might be involved. To ensure his point is made.

The divine, however, if he ever raised such concerns or complaint in his mind, it would be during a particularly slow day. A day so slow a snail would be envious. Would only ever imagine an issue that could easily be dismissed. With only a smile and a positive outlook. A different perspective. Such as a bird-eyes view.

The divine satisfied that the bad air has been swept away, brushes his own body of any dirt. Done with a pleasant hum. Turns to collect Len’s books. It is a bizarre picture. The wings furthest from Len, sticking straight up reaching for the light. As the wing closet to Len was spread flat along his back. Twitching while light sparkles upon every individual feather. This wing rises as his back expand with a breath.

Then there are books. Presented to Len, neatly stacked. Len’s books.

“Here you are. Sorry again about falling on you. I swear balance has a way of abandoning me when I need it the most. Or maybe I go to fast for my own feet. Hard to say.” The divine grins, more blinding than the sun. And probably just as harsh, if the winds shift. Or the tides receded.

“Maybe.” Len shrugs. Turning away to get some much-needed shade. But his eyes don’t budge. Divine or not. Len won’t die because of a shallow first impression.

The grin doesn’t falter. Despite the vulnerable stance- the open chest which Len could pierce, the resting limbs with no purpose, the clear lack of a weapon or sense- something in the air felt hard. Like a solid wall.

Doesn't matter. For all the hardness of marble, jade, bronze, and limestone of every statue, in the end, all they are is powerless, controllable, and innocent symbols of beauty.

“No. I guess you wouldn’t know.” The divine waves a hand. Fluttering back and forth like those red wings. “Sir… I didn’t catch your name. Sorry.”

“I didn’t say my name.” Len twirls his feather, colored by shades of red- scarlet mostly- in front of his face. “But you didn’t ay yours either.”

“No. I guess I didn’t.” The divine grins widen.

Len grins in return. “Not that names mean much.”

The divine’s nose twitches. The grin blooming into a full smile. And Len was wrong. The bland sun had nothing on the divine’s smile. It could inspire worship and prayer. And war. Even in Len, a demon more enrapt by rays of sunshine splashing on a pile of jewels, than a divine with a designation justly earned.

The divine nods. “Some have more worth than others.” Those red wings arch up and spread wide, but only a bit.

Len grins. Twirling the matching feather at its stem. “Oh? Are you saying your name has more worth?”

The divine snorts. Rough and loud. And more a gesture Len expected from Mick. Mick coated in rough burns and his gritty hands. Words held closer than a winning hand of cards.

“Probably not.”

“Probably. You're not certain?”

Wings shrug in synch with their attached shoulders. “How can I? I don’t even know your name.

“I am a good judge of worth. If you told me yours…”

“Nope,” the divine laughs.

“Then we have a stalemate, Scarlet.”

Scarlet laughs louder than before. His body rolling forward and his wings flapping backward. “A nickname. Really? And how’d you pick that?”

Len uses his feather to point at the scarlet wings curling around their body. “A color worthy of such sublime wings.”

Scarlet’s wings spread high. The feather tips sticking past the top of his head. Oh. His cheeks are almost flushed with the same deep color. Almost. “You shouldn’t be able to say something like that so easily.”

“I can. I am a demon.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” The wings settle but the feather tips still twitch out.

“Everything.”

Scarlet hums. Gaze tracking the lines of Len’s coat. “And what should I call you?” 

Len sweeps his hand out to Scarlet. Bowing a degree. To play at enacting a grand gestures. “Call me Cold.”

“A nickname?”

“Only for you Scarlet.”

Scarlet tilts his head as smooth as any ring that could sit on Len’s finger. “Liar.”

Not a hill worth dying on. If there ever was such a thing. Passion and miracles might as well be the same thing.

Scarlet huffs. Wings bouncing with the breath. “Fine. But shouldn’t I have picked the name? Fair is fair.”

Paintings, jewels, etchings, and statues are named. Found sleeping in temples and ruins, waiting for a daring discover. The McGuffin that sings of legends, myths, and danger seduced by its beauty. Drive someone mad or full of evil. Decisions are made but never by the thing its self. What accomplishments could it name? 

“I think not.”

“Why not?” Another huff and wings held tight.

“It’s my nature.”

“And what kind is that?”

“The kind that would drown me, Scarlet. And take you down to the depths with me.” Len holds up an empty palm. “That kind.”

Scarlet flaps his hand. Right to left, and left to right. Fluid to such a degree that the hand buzzed with energy. “Nah. I disagree. Your not the type.”

Nah?! Not the type?! “Where did that thought float from? The North or the South winds?”

“It didn’t float. It walked. Side-by-side with my own nature, Cold.”

“What kind of nature, exactly?”

“The type that strikes and crackles from fire and ice.” Such firmness in each and every one of Scarlet’s words. Even the punctuation at the end demanded attention.

Which Len didn’t expect. Didn’t expect the energy that flashed behind Scarlet’s eyes, either. Certainly not from a form carved from jade. Divines’ nature was typically the type to live and die where they were displayed. Of course, an individual or two might want to attempt, at least, to crack the glass. Len could use that.

This whole chance meeting, could be very profitable.

“I can work with ice, Scarlet.”

“Really? I just can’t see that. Cold. Maybe a beach. Nice sun and tan. That sort of thing.”

“Funny.”

“I try,” Scarlet smiles, his eyes glinting with unmoored glee.

Len nods, tucking the feather into his jacket. “We’re a certain level of acquainted now.”

“We’re acquaintances?”

“Well, we’re not strangers.”

Scarlet sniggers. “Fine. Ask your question.”

Len hums. Scarlet still possesses Len’s books. Flat on his open palm. All that skin, open and alive. Wearing nothing but short leggings and a skirt-of a sort- that wrapped around his hips. Clean. Unmarked. Sending a clear message. The type that flashed: an easy mark. That only whispered outside his normal. Outside the Upperworld. Outside the walls, the security, the watchful eyes of the Goddesses blessings. 

The sort of mark that inspired a certain type of story. Stories that promised wishes and dreams coming true. Oh and Len. He has a list.

Scarlet blinks. Teeth glinting. The left corner of his mouth curved and twitching. The stacks of books not wavering. His hair brushed by the wind. Len could see every single one of his brush strokes. Hours of work.

Len hums again. Stepping around Scarlet, in a full circle. Three hundred and sixty degrees. Ten steps in all. “I’m a simple man.”

“Careful. You're inching closer to the truth, Cold.”

“Ask any demon, Scarlet, they will tell you all great lies hold a pearl of truth.”

Scarlet tilts his head. “Your question.”

Len takes another five steps. Scarlet wings rest gently on his defenseless back. “What’s a bird doing playing in the shallow tides of the sea? Especially, when constant motion is your nature.”

“I’ve got some questions of my own.”

“Questions? That’s all?”

“Yup. Came down for some simple research.”

“Research? What do the almighty divines concern themselves with?”

“Who knows. I’m researching Aether. How it grows. How it spreads. It's composition, well, the atoms. Because it’s an element. Ergo, not a compound. Yeah.” Scarlet chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

Aether. The most valuable treasure of them all. High rarity. High demand. All the motivation needed to devour. Flowing in the veins of every single divine, mortal, and demon. The exact reason why Scarlet should keep his distance from the maw of the Underworld.

"Why come down here for your research?" 

Scarlet lifts his head high. Now possessed by a wild puppy. Eyes wide with energy. "I need some baby aether crystals. Finding one back home is almost impossible. Easier to just take a trip." 

"And the tree?" 

"Oh. Baby crystals grow around trees. That's the theory at least. Some think the matter gathers first among the highest leaves in the tallest tree." Scarlet squints up at the sun leaves rustling as they must. 

Light beans thrusting past the open gaps between the pushy greens. Treasure gathers above Len's head, just as dust collects in the rafters of a house. Len plucks a leaf. Hanging low. Defeated by gravity. "But you don't agree. Got another theory, Scarlet." 

"No. I don't. Agree. That is. There are certain biases." Scarlet grinds the word bias between his teeth. "I think they start at the tree's roots. But I'm not sure how to scan for crystals in the dirt." He shrugs. 

"And why do you think that?" 

"Nothing. A different perspective. Nothing complicated." Scarlet shrugs rubbing his neck. Gaze flickering away, even as the smile continues to shine. Hot. Like standing in the middle of a desert. Nothing like the tropics it should be. Abundant and free with fish in the sea. Refreshing rivers and trees. So many trees. 

"That sounds like a lie Scarlet." Not that Len can be sure. It's more like a bluff. The kind he does when Len's cards are trash. Down to his last three chips. He starts to push. Stand his ground. Eye to eye. Without missing a beat. 

"One man's lie is another man's truth. It's all about perspective. No point in walking a line that isn't there." The wings shudder and stick close to his back.

"I suppose. Just not what I expect from a divine."

"But shouldn't you expect it from me?" Scarlet barks out a laugh. Short, quick, and sharp. His hand once more placed behind his neck. Eyes flickering to Len's books. At the top is 'Divine Law,' next down is 'The Three Goddesses,' and the very last is 'Divine Nature and It's Traditions.' He finished up 'The Three Goddesses' right before Scarlet's landing. The only one he hadn't read before. 

A gift. Mostly bedtime stories. 

And lo and behold Scarlet points to that particular book. "I had that book as a child. Well, we all did. You're curious about us divines, demon?"

"Never seen one before. I read about mortals too. Not like there are any other sources." 

"True demons aren't a common sight for me either." 

Len nods at that. The mystery on both sides meant opportunity was knocking. "Let's make a deal Scarlet." 

"A deal? With a demon?" 

"Just a simple deal. A tit for tat. A question for a question. An answer for an answer. Easy." Len waves his hand and spread his arms wide. Well, one stays hidden behind his back. 

"I could work with that. Help to cure my niggling curiosity." 

"Then we have a deal." 

"Cool. What should I ask first?" 

"Who says you get the first crack Scarlet?" 

"You already asked her first question Cold, wouldn't be fair to our deal if you got another?" 

"True enough." Len shrugs. "Ask a question." 

"Do demons have wings too?" 

"Some do, some don't." 

Scarlet hums. Satisfied with just a crumb of information. All Scarlet's inquiry amounts to is idle curiosity. Len can work with that. Although he's after bigger fish. The kind that swims between where the light strikes the water then gets eaten by the darker depths. 

"How do you divines reach the bridge world?" 

"Take the stairs. There are stairs on your side, right?" 

"Indeed. Except they head down." And make a far less comfortable picture than the welcoming wooden steps of the other side. Not that the invitation is for someone like Len. Not on the approved list. Can't get close. Stalled by sickness and lost breath. Tugging at things that are not meant for the light in his mind. With the added flourish of judgmental eyes finding him lacking. Not even his ice could get through. And the next day all traces of his attempts vanished. 

Scarlet though, he just walked down. A short and comfortable trip. With no hidden trick. 

Damn Len's luck. 

"What's it like? The Underworld." 

"Ah, ah. You already had your question, Scarlet." 

"Fine. Then ask yours. "

"Ask what?" Len grabs back his books. Quickly returning them to their proper place in his coat. 

Scarlet huffs. High handed and theatrical. Shoulders rose up and slumped down. "Your question." 

"Don't have one." Len twirls on his feet. Setting a steady pace back to those black steps. Such easy bait. Can't tug too hard or the fish might lose interest. 

"Wait, don't go please." 

Something grabs his arm. Firm and cold. Stone cuffs and chains anchoring him in place. It will bruise it always does. He'll heal as always does. 

Ice shoots out past his fingertips. Shaking the hand off his arm. Shit. It's always worse when he fights back. More vicious next time, with a strong chance that it will splash on Lisa. Shit. Shit. 

Ice spikes through flesh- skin, fat, muscle, and bone- more importantly, blood. Blood that taints the fresh air. 

Because it doesn't belong. Not blending in with the dirt and disease and the last rattles of breath. Not the Underworld. Not the Underworld. 

And around him is green. Green grass and trees. And green eyes blinking up at Len. Focusing on nothing. 

Scarlet holding his wrist. Dripping with blood. Continuously dripping and sliding down to the crook of his elbow. One area is frozen. A red cube of ice stuck to the skin. 

Len fucked up. Hurting a divine. Stealing blood and flash.No one has ever seen a divine. But they all know. To destroy the sacred is to break divine law. Beings of love should never have to experience suffering or pain. To see and smell their own blood. Such weak creatures wouldn't have endured. Unlike demons. They can adapt to every level of pain. 

Len's fingertips prod into his palm. One reason of many for keeping his nails trimmed short. Flies down the steps back to the pits. Without sparing a single glance back. 

Trouble can't catch him. Not when Mick or Lisa could end up caught up in a mess as well. Len needs to keep moving. He has responsibilities to keep his Rouges alive. Safe. Keep a watchful eye on Mick's fire and Lisa swift, sharp tongue. The keep is cool. Ice. To ice the room when necessary. 

He should've kept his cool before. He knows better. Doesn't matter that he didn't expect it. He should have. Expected the divine to get close. No sense of danger. Just innocent curiosity. Even if he felt fear, what would that mean to a divine? Something silly or irrational. A fast heartbeat and a nervous laugh. Indeed not a clear message from the brain. The watch and wait. Get ready for a fight or flight situation. Dangers is near. 

Danger is here. 

Scarlet will know it now. That fear is real. 

Fucking damn it. Len fucked up. Lost his one chance. What can he do now? Nothing. 

Whatever. It's not like Len had any real plans. Just a thought. A basic concept with a rough outline. Something to occupy his time while his mind melts at room temperature.

"What is the point?"

**\---**

"You haven't been reading much." Lisa blows at her nails. Painted a deep green. Like she knows something. Not that she could. She may peek at eavesdrop, but she'd never spy on Len. At least not with purpose or intent. 

"It's called work, train-wreck." 

"Ah. Work. Reading the harvest reports, counting every crystal twice, and tracking each demon's needs. Such intense work. Complexed even. Why, of course, it would take up all your time." 

"Do you have a point?" 

"Nope." 

Len glares. He isn't playing in this game. Not this time. He rubs his eyes. Needles pricks him behind his skull. Daring him to make something of the paper and ink sitting in front of him. Bah. Nothing but scribbles and white. Not that he needs to see the numbers. From day to day, they are the same. 

"You haven't been heading up either. Get into some trouble?" Lisa giggles. Probably trying for the laugh of a young girl or child that likes to bounce between walls. My. Did she ever miss the mark. By miles.

Nonetheless, Len shoulders tense for a bit. "What trouble could I find an empty sea of trees?" 

"Oh. You find a way, Lenny." 

Len glares again. Not that it left much of an impact. 

Moving to her other hand. Lisa dipped her brush into the bottle. Pulling it up for the paint but getting the whole bottle. 

"Lenny!" 

He smirks. Enjoying this short-lived moment. "It isn't your color." Too close to matching a specific shade of a particular gaze. 

"It's called variety." 

"It's called bad taste." 

Lisa glares back. "I'm going to add some flowers too. I'm thinking blue or purple. Something soft." 

"Gold is soft." 

"It's found in the ground. It cold hard rock." 

Len props his elbow on the table. His head propped on his hand. The color green is an expensive commodity for most demons. "Flowers are found in the ground, too."

Lisa stills her brush, pausing above the ring finger. She huffs. The polish must've glopped, a bit. "What is with you today?" 

"What? Has your compliance convinced you that my disgust towards your girlfriend and boyfriend has abated?" 

"How did you even?" 

"Flowers Lisa really?" 

"I'm more than a one-note woman Lenny." 

"No doubt Lisa." 

Lisa rubs her fingernail with a soft cloth. "Did something happen at the Bridge?" 

"Nothing ever happens. Why?" Len narrows his eyes. 

Lisa hasn't moved much. Either too focused on her nails or using her nails as a distraction. Maybe she started to take notice. All the more reason for Len to stop his day trips. 

"You feel less solid." 

"Less solid? I think I'm melting, train-wreck." 

"Yeah. Well, no. I can't really stab the issue. It's shifty." 

"I am a demon." 

"Shut up that's not what I meant." Lisa flutters her nails. Less for drying the polish and more to keep them busy. Probably so she doesn't smack Len. He wishes she'd stop. The green keeps catching his eye. Reminding him. And the distraction- that is his routine work, an excellent built system that runs itself. Isn't helping. Maybe one of the Rogues could start something. Cleaning their messes is not a fun Saturday, but at least it would be something to do. 

"Goldie!" 

"In here, Mick!" 

This could be something. Regularly scheduled Mick is usually chatting with the pretty demons that shake their asses for some aether crystals. Tends to be in a more settled mood. Wrapped in pleasant scents. Not soot. Or shitty bourbon. Mirrors and Tops drink bourbon. 

Part of his coat is ripped. 

Oh. Wouldn't that be perfect? A chance to tear into Lisa’s paramores a bit. With Lisa not being able to argue. But can the universe be so kind?

"Message." Mick prompts. Shoving an envelope past Lisa's nose. It's covered in soot, Len can't perceive it's the original color. 

"From your fucking ball and chain."

"They're not. We're working on it." 

"Someone's working something all right. Should trap both of them on a farm." 

"You'll do no such thing, Lenny." 

Len lifts placating hands. Probably a lie. Definitely a lie. 

"Mick. What sort of trouble did you run into?" 

Mick grunts. Heading to the kitchen for a beer. Len waits. It never helps to rush Mick anywhere. Returns with a beer and some leftover stew. Heating it with his hands. "The she-pickle jump me. Fucking talking to some birds." Mick makes a face. The next grunt muffled by a gulp of beer.

"What kind of jumped?" 

"Lenny!" 

Best to keep the cards on the table when it comes to the ball and chain. Can't have them dragging Lise too far down. 

"Do you see me grinning, Snart?" 

"Well." Len shrugs. 

"Fuck you, Len." 

"Hey, it isn't my fault you have crappy taste." 

"As if yours is any better. If they ain't empty-headed. They're snakes in the grass."

"At least I don't let my snakes bite me again and again. After all the first fucking time. I cut off the head." 

"But at least I try. At least I want something. Actively participating in the world. Not hiding in the freezer." 

"I'm not a coward." 

"Yes. You. Are." Gold is dripping from Lisa's fingers. Going to be pissed about that later. It always ruins her nail polish. Lost her cool. Not that he can talk. Ice is crawling around his wrist. Has to shake it off. No point in losing control. Again.

Blood dripping from the arm and wrist. 

"I'm being smart." 

"Sometimes you can be so smart you're stupid." Lisa snaps her fingers. "That's what's up with you. Isn't it? You're being stupid." 

Len shakes himself. Rubbing both hands along his head. "I'm not the one being stupid." 

"It ain't me," Mick rumbles. 

"That depends. How bad was the fire?" 

Mick shrugs. "Could have been better." 

No demon has come yet screaming bloody murder. So that might be a fair assumption. Mick's mood seems to have improved with the beer. Guess that's it. Things are settled. 

"You could do better, Lisa." 

"How? Our situation doesn't exactly breed fine respectable demons."

"Then why bother at all?" 

"I told you, Len. A dream that things could be different. More living. Unless counting the seconds of dying." 

"But nothing is working." 

"But it is something." Lisa eyes, Len. Trying to pick apart his words to find his hidden meaning. Decides it is too much trouble and shakes her head. Leaves to go live Len figures. 

She still could do better. 

"Why do I bother with her mess?" 

"Because you're stupid." Mick swallowed the last ounce of his beer. Melting the bottle into a glass lamp. And shuffles off. 

Len isn't a coward or stupid.

**\---**

Len might be stupid. Really stupid. He can't get into the Upperworld. The bridge is a beautiful piece of art. But anything can be dull if you stare at it long enough. There is nothing to obtain by climbing those obsidian steps. Sitting against those green trees. Lacking even a single bird. Even the Underworld has birds. 

The problem is that Lisa returned from her dead nose red and a shiner beneath her left eye. Fist clenched, and nail polish ruined. But determined nonetheless. 

The problem is that Mick offered her a beer. Before Len said a thing. Sat her down. And listened. Listened to the same story, Len and Mick have heard before. Rosa said this. Sam said that. Lisa was pushed. She always pushes back. Len made sure of that. Stole a souvenir. 

Making Len proud. Despite the knowledge, she'll end up giving it back. Proud. Lisa is a survivor. 

Problem was Len woke up 118 minutes before he usually does. Couldn't get back to sleep. Not the type. Either he's asleep. Or he is awake. And once he's awake, he might as well start the day. 

He is up. Sitting in the kitchen. A single picture of Lisa when she was young held up by a snowflake magnet. Grin wild and pleased. The only photo left from their childhood. It survived. 

Just as Lisa had. 

Lisa is a survivor. 

But what if she didn't have to be? What if she were free to be weak or strong like the wind? Len wants to give her that. Give her something he's never gonna have. Which is a problem. Cause he can't.

Standing here. His back to the steps. Nothing but green in front of him. Green might be expensive down below. But it doesn't grant wishes. Nothing like that. 

The green might not even be real. An illusion created from divine magic meeting demon magic. In actuality, it's a room. With nothing inside except a bridge. Ugly and rotten. With bloodstains spattered along its steps. 

Even the divine might just be another aspect of this illusion. Len's feather turned to read dust. Sat in his room. Ready to place it into a glass specimen box. Raking his fingers along the cloth pocket. Gathering nothing but dust. They say divines can't survive the Underworld. Any more than a demon could survive the Upperworld. Or that could be part of the illusion. Which is a problem. 

Question enough of reality and you find yourself trapped in a box isolated and nothing but a floating soul. With some master of fate pulling his strings. 

And Len really doesn't want that to be true. He'll not have any strings tugging and pulling at him. Thank you. 

So reality it is. For the most part. 

And reality dictates you make a choice. To head back. To be smart. To acknowledge this is a waste of time. No divine will show. And Len has already inspected what he could. Finding no magical object or a hidden door. No trick. 

Or to be stupid. Stupidly walk the path. Count each tree as he has done before. Listen for birds are rabbits. Get only silence. Stop at the center tree over near the bridge. And stare at nothing but wasted time. 

To Lisa's amusement, while the why is unknown to her, Len chooses the stupid option. Walked the path. Walked it to the end. Finding not what he expected at all. 

"Cold!" 

"What the fuck?"


	3. Daisy Whispers

There are two options here. Either Scarlet is an idiot. Or Len is hallucinating. Only the two. And divines are supposed to be righteous, weak, an ornament on display. Nothing to imply the beings are stupid. Simply ignorant. Ergo there are only two options. Only two. And only one possible action. Len grabs Scarlet's face. Let's go, the moment's warmth prickling his fingers. 

"You are not a hallucination." 

"Why would I?"

"Then you are an idiot." 

"What? I'm not stupid. I am considered very intelligent by my peers." Scarlet rubs his face. The exact spots where Len's fingers had pressed. Already red from the few seconds where the soft touch of Len's cold fingers. 

"Then, why are you here?" 

"Because I wanted to see you again." 

Ice grips Len's wrist. Who says that? Anybody else and Len would know something was up. But a divine, what would they know of manipulation? What would Scarlet even gain from wrapping Len in strings? What value could a divine gain from a demon or the Underworld? What would he profit from Len? 

"Why?" 

"I still have questions. And to apologize." 

Len steps around Scarlet. 180°. And another 180°. While Scarlet sits on his knees. Head tilted towards the Upperworld. Gaze tracking Len's every step. 

Len keeps his own surveillance on the divine as he travels around. A perfect circle with Scarlet in the middle. "Apologize? For what exactly?"

"For startling you. Grabbing your arm. Ignoring the basic lines of decency that dictate that you regard someone's personal bubble with respect. Which I didn't! That's bad. So I'm sorry. I'm all about skinship and public affection. It's important to me. Not that I should expect the same from you. You're different. Bigger on the whole bubble thing. That's why. I'm sorry." 

Not knowing something does not mean that it isn't true. Len doesn't know what divine's value. Doesn't understand what Scarlet wants. But that doesn't mean Scarlet wants nothing from him. A demon specimen perhaps? 

"So what?" 

"I don't get your meaning." 

"You're giving me an apology. What do you in return?" 

"Nothing. Period. Why would I expect anything?" 

"Because debt is a temptation begging to be cashed." 

Scarlet stills. Every indication of life disappearing from one breath and reappearing in the next. Ending with him rubbing his nose. "Wouldn't that logic mean I owe you? Saying I'm at fault implies debt. Doesn't it? Accepting the apology would be forgiving the debt. Right?" 

Len hadn't thought of that. Might explain why it's not a habit among demons. Mick has a gripe with Len, he lets Mick burn some shit or throw a punch. Lisa, he lets poke and prod him. Len gets a meal or a pass. Exchange of favors. Rather than words. 

"Sure. Sure. Then I get to cash in?" 

Scarlet shrugs picking a blade of grass. "What do you want? I have more than some." 

"Let's return to our original deal I think." 

"Really?" 

"But with some designated space." 

"Agree. Yeah. I will sit here. Not moving an inch. And you can expand as much as you want. I'll be stellar." Deal. I'll start?" 

"Fine with me. All systems go. Ask away." 

"Why did you come back?" 

Scarlet blinks with all the force of a door slamming close then thrust open. "I told you." 

"Yes. Some question and apologies. I heard. Are you saying that's your final answer?" 

"Yes, I think so." 

"You think?" 

"I'm sure. Yes." 

"Then you are an idiot." 

Scarlet slumps back, knees still bent, and parallel to the ground. "Why are we back to that?" 

"Because I hit you with ice. Drew blood. Common sense says you avoid the thing that caused pain or destroyed it entirely. "Len swings his hand to extend his index finger with purpose. The purpose is to point at Scarlet. "Unless common sense isn't a thing in the Upperworld." 

Which you'd think would be in the books. Or least make its way to the gossip cycles. Len would have sussed it out. It could have been forgotten. A lack of common sense is a death sentence. Any demon might have shucked the information as being unreliable. Even for gossip. 

"Of course it's a thing. But you don't need commonsense to be smart." Scarlet paused. His mouth open. The sound of what he said, making its way to his ears. Then his brain. And the cogs start to turn to get the lights turned on. "I have that too by the way. Both." 

"Recent events suggest otherwise." 

"I overstepped a boundary. You reacted badly, sure. But I know you didn't do it on purpose." 

"I am a demon!" 

"What does that have to do with anything?" 

"Danger. Pain informs about the danger." 

Scarlet grinds his teeth and crosses his arms. Every action digging his metaphorical heels in the dirt. "I acknowledge the danger. But you're not going to hurt me." 

"Based on what evidence? We had small talk. Not exactly enlightening." "Instinct!" 

"Instinct?" Len punctuates the word with judging raised brow. Mouths instinct to himself. Instinct. 

"Yup." Scarlet nods. "Instinct." 

Hypothesis created and tested. Divine's lack basic common sense and intelligence. Good to know. 

"I'm not stupid." 

Len raises a brow. Mocking the divine. A bit patronizing because Len's conclusion is only natural. Given Scarlet's declaration and trust of his instinct. Instinct. Where is logic and reason in that? 

"I haven't said a thing." 

"No. But your face did." 

"My face?" 

"Your stupid face." 

"You're not helping your argument, Scarlet." 

"Ask your question, Cold." Scarlet kept his arms crossed. With a frown that broadcast every thought. Mostly annoyance. The kind that comes quickly and leaves just as fast. Or as Lisa would say, the temperament of a child. One cannot grow without pain; clearly, the divine is lacking in that area. 

"Already did." 

"You can have another. On the house." 

Len hums. How fortuitous. The goddesses might be smiling on him today. Ha! Who is he kidding? 

"Who is in charge of Upperworld?" 

"The Goddess." 

"Yes. Yes. Technically. But who is on top giving the orders in the Goddess' name?" 

"The Goddess," Scarlett says very slowly. Enunciating each syllable. Irritated and gone with the wind. 

"I'm not stupid Scarlet." 

"I didn't say you were." Scarlet's the one grinning now. Showing off his perfect teeth that Len could use as a mirror.

"You were. With your eyes." 

"How could my eyes say anything? They are mounds of flesh. Not text on a page." Scarlet's eyes widened and attempt to appear innocent of any petty revenge. Rightly deserved or not. 

"That's a crude way to describe the windows into the soul." 

"Oh. Are you a romantic Cold?" 

"I'm a demon." 

"What does that have to do with anything?" Scarlet laughs. More relaxed, limbs sprawled further onto the grass with each giggle. 

Len shrugs. "Ask your question, Scarlet." 

"What's the Underworld like?" 

Len leans against a nearby tree. A good ten feet from the divine's feet. The same feet, bare against the blade grass and knocking together in some erratic rhythm. Clean and unmarked. Not even the ground would dare dirty him. 

Maybe Len could. Not that he has the time or interest. "That's a vague question, Scarlet. Could you be more specific?" 

"OK. Sure. What's it like living in the Underworld?" 

"That's not much better." 

"It's what I got." Len hums. He already hadn’t expected much from the divine. Some tourist level questions. A little razzle and dazzle. And Scarlet would be satisfied. 

This one, in particular, is vague. But still a tourist question. The vagueness could even pose a problem. There's a lot of room for Len to give away too much. Too little and Scarlet would be annoyed. 

Start with the environment. Len hums again.

"It's cold. For most, at least. Its fluid. Some people stand out. Some people blend in. People with the right skills can carve out a good life. Enough to take care of others even. With a degree of respect. Which is always earned. No one gets anything while riding another's coattails. It's fair." 

"And who do you take care of Cold?" 

Lens still. Freezes himself. So nothing of the mind finds its way to the body. All that's is his smirk, sharp and icy. "Not your turn Scarlet." "You're really like using that nickname you pick." 

"It suits you." 

"Maybe it does." Scarlet shrugs. Easy and loose. Treading into a minefield without any preparation for flight or fight. Leaning back on his hands behind him and spread wide. Every single tooth on this play. "But that's not why you like it." 

"Tell me your name I'll use that instead." 

"Liar." Scarlet smiles only grows bigger. 

He could be right. Not that either of them will ever know for sure. Since Scarlet obviously had no desire to tell Len his name. Or need for Len give him that level of respect. Why? Arrogance would demand it. And Len is certain that Scarlet is not a passive wilting flower. 

This should be easy. Trivial. 

"Is the Upperworld rigid and strict?" 

"Rigid?" Scarlet snorts. "What is in those books you've been reading?"

"Not an answer." Len clicks his tongue. 

"In a way, I guess we are. Nobody says anything about the rules. Preferring to say love is free, so are we. But the lines are there. Like weights." 

"You sound bitter." 

Oh, Scarlet might be humming in thought. Feet still smacking together. But something flashed in those jade eyes. Wriggling and thrashing against their restraints. 

"Why would I?" Scarlet ducks his head. Rubbing the back of his neck. Avoiding Len's gaze. His own eyes were tight. 

Any rules that were created were made to protect the divines. The stories said divines were often prayed upon by demons and mortals that believed in immortality. Which of those rules would be weights to such a finely constructed divine? Perhaps hierarchy wasn't based on beauty? What else did they have? Morality points? 

"Your turn Scarlet." 

"Who do you take care of Cold?" 

Damn. Len would have figured Scarlet would've forgotten. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that he hoped. 

"Pass." 

"You can't pass," Scarlet laughs again. He does that a lot. Smile. Grin. Len hates it. Hates. It. "I'm passing Scarlet. "

"OK. But you sure you want to set a precedent for that?" He tilts his head, eyes amused, as children are by the strangest things. 

Rain as puddles. Ants in a line. Lisa, in particular, liked to watch Len's ice melt. Run her finger down the sides. Giggle at her reflection. 

And dammit. No when doesn't want to set a precedent. "No. I don't." And Scarlet knew that before he asked. 

"So where is my answer?" 

"A group of idiots plus one." 

"Your family?" 

"Nope." 

"Liar," Scarlet declares with a giggle. Pleased apparently that Len lied.

Such a strange reaction. It's a first, really. Almost like Len's bluff is failing. His hand is crap, and everybody knows it. He doesn't like it. Being read like one of Axle's cheap magazines. Len sharpens his smile. And Scarlet grins is goofy.

It's fine. Len is nicknamed Cold for a reason. "My turn." 

"Indeed." 

"You've ever been in trouble with the Guard?" 

"The guard?" 

"The guys that round up the troublemakers that are causing problems. Upsetting society. Breaking the rules." Len goes to shrug but stops himself. Side-eyeing the divine. Not that Scarlet has changed positions since this game started. 

"We don't have those." 

"You don't have any guards? None?" 

"No. Is that strange?" 

"Maybe, maybe not." 

Maybe there isn't any point. For a bunch of self-righteous goodie-two-shoes. Needs are met. Perhaps desires just faded away. Statues don't eat. But they still need protection. Lacking claws and fangs. Common sense is lacking too. Like a rabbit that hops into the wolves maw because the predator said please. 

"Then who protects you?" 

"I do." No hesitation at all. 

Len could smack his head against the wall. 

Scarlet tilts his head, remembering some moment in the past. "Physics are quite effective." 

"They are." Any demon could just wander up. Curious about all the fuss. Find Scarlet. Easy to lose. A prize set from the Upperworld- a fortune. "Should you be down here?" 

"Why?" Scarlet bites the word. Sending a dagger gaze at Len. Piercing. Almost shocking. Like touching a livewire. 

"No reason." Len holds his hand up placating. There isn't any reason to care. Some demon getting a piece of the treasure. When Len was after the whole booty. Every last piece. And now he knew there was no security. None. All he needed was to find a way inside. A plan was forming. 

"Who is the plus one?" 

"What?" Len missed something. Shit.

"You said a group of idiots plus one. Who is the plus one?" 

Len blinks. Why is it Scarlets getting more specific? More personal. What's his motivation? "My sister." 

"I knew you had a family. I bet your younger sister would explain your guardian nature?" 

Len gave away too much. How? He was careful, dammit! Then he blurts some words about Lisa. This needs to be shut down fast. But he can't just ask Scarlet how a demon can even enter the Upperworld? As much as he is oblivious to danger, Scarlet isn't that stupid. Clearly. 

Wait. 

"I told you my nature, Scarlet. And it isn't a protective one." He's caused Lisa too much pain to ever claimed he protected her. Dragged her down with him. When he should've pushed her to escape. Live among the mortals. Be free. 

"Yeah. But you're a liar." 

"I wasn't lying about that." 

"Maybe." Scarlet tilts his head. 

"Maybe," Lead mocks tilting his own head to mirror Scarlet. 

"Your turn, Cold." 

Len needs to stand on even ground. His grins and mocking tone isn't getting him anywhere. He needs a weak point. Unsettle Scarlet and his goofy smile. Get him to tighten up. To stop the smacking of his feet. To stand straight and push back. A soft spot where even diamonds break.

Bitter about the rules. That's all Len's got. 

"You said there were unspoken rules?"

"Yeah, I did." 

"What are they? Can't be the standard stuff if you've got no Guard." 

"We don't need a guard. Got righteousness and shame instead." 

There's that bitter flare again. This time in his tone. 

"But I'm not sure what you mean by the standard."

"No lying, no stealing, no unnecessary fortification, no slap fights, or mean words. The standard set." 

"Unnecessary fornication?" 

"Can you feel the sexual front striation?" 

"Nope. You know divines are born from the Pillar Tree." 

"I did not. That's weird and clean. Sterile." 

"And how are demons born?" 

"Do I need to tell you about the birds and the bees Scarlet?" 

"I know about sex, Cold. I even know how demis procreate." 

"Demis?" 

"The beings of the middle realm." 

"Mortals." 

"Mortals?"

"Yeah, the middles." 

"That's a strange difference." 

"Which word do you think his older Scarlet?" 

"Demis." 

"Because it's your world?" 

"No. Because it fits. Demons, divines, and demis. It fits." Scarlet claps his hands and in the discussion. 

Well, he does have a point. It does fit. "Still haven't answered my question." 

Scarlet claps his hands over his mouth. Eyes even wider if that's possible. Staring up at Len. "Oops. I forgot." 

Len laughs. On purpose. Just chuckles out of breath instead of an exhale. Oh. And Scarlet is pleased. Gaze glittering, smile beaming behind his hands. So Len just laughs again. To feel it rumble in his chest. 

"My answer Scarlet."

"I'm not supposed to be down here doing aether crystal research. Not supposed to ask questions. Or propose counter theories. No pushing forward. Just frozen still. It's suffocating."

"Nothing wrong with a little snow and ice Scarlet." Len wiggles his fingers letting snowflakes fall between the gap. 

"That's amazing. Spectacular. The ice spikes were striking, but they melted so fast." 

"It's to erase evidence mostly. Lisa and Mick hate it when I cover shit in sheets of ice. Last time, Mick even set the den on fire." 

"Mick heart." 

Shit. Fuck. Crap. Dammit. Bloody fucking dammit! 

"One of the idiots. Second-in-command." Each word was smooth and crisp. Not an atom out of place. Smirk firm on his face. No turmoil was slipping through. 

But stupid Scarlet was still grinning. Goofy. "Sure. Protector's need someone to watch their back." 

"Shut up." 

Scarlet hums. 

Len still hasn't pushed him off his rhythm. No demon except Lisa and HIM has given Len so much trouble. It's probably means nothing. Len isn't used to conversating with a divine. They lack the desperation that he's so used to dealing with from the demons clawing at the world for just the basics. 

"Take your turn, Scarlet." 

"I don't know what to ask..." Scarlet grabs a handful of grass. Plucked straight from the ground. Letting them fall between his finger much the same as Len did with his snow. Hums as he grabbed another fistful of green. "What do you do for fun? Besides read, I mean." 

"Maybe that's all I do Scarlet. Moving from a comfortable spot to comfortable spot reading and re-reading until my brain melts." 

"Re-read?" 

"There are only so many books. A finite amount." 

"I see. That means you must do something else for fun. With Lisa and Mick. Something you all do together." 

"We read." 

"Come on Cold. You have to answer it. It's part of the deal." Scarlet rolls around on the ground. Tossing his limbs aside. But still keping in mind the ten feet of space that Len had set. Mindful of the line. Not trying to push. How sweet. 

"Lisa sometimes drags me to the watering hole. Where I sit in my corner. She flirts outrageously with anything that suits her fancy. And eventually Mick sets something on fire. Fun time for all."

"What's a watering hole?"

"A place of business to buy food and alcohol. And well maybe some unnecessary fornication. That is kept on the down-low." 

Scarlet blinks. Laying out on the ground open and curious. More significantly without a glint of recognition in those jade peepers. Nothing at all. 

Len covers his face with a hand. Watering holes are simple concepts that include a lot of ground. Where to start? Every living thing has got to eat. 

"OK. What do you drink and eat?" 

"We don't. No harm to any living creature remember." 

"No, I don't. That's not common knowledge downstairs. That doesn't even make sense. How do you replenish your energy?" 

"From the sun or the Aether Heart." 

Like fucking plants. No not plants exactly. Because even trees and flowers might consume the dead as food. For common sense's sake. Len has read about some plants that can trap bugs to eat. Then there's the aether heart. Len doesn't have any knowledge of so much crystal in one place you could classify it as a heart. Fuck. 

"Did I say something wrong? Doesn't the Underworld have a heart?" 

Len rubs his face harder. A heart. Breath. This is good news. Means he only has to head up there once. Lessens the dangers. Increases his chances. Good things. Probably security around the Heart that Scarlet doesn't know about. But Len can work with that. 

Shit. 

No wonder Scarlet isn't desperate. The aether shortage wouldn't affect him in the least. Not with the crystal heart. Well until Len steals it...

"No, we don't." Demons are not blessed. The corrupted are only hurt by prayer. 

Not like the divine. Pure souls blessed to perfection. And Scarlet is an ideal example of this evident truth. Wiggling on his knees. Twirling a blade of grass much the same as Len had twirled one of Scarlet's feathers. A plucked piece of grass. 

"If divines to do no harm, how can you take that grass?" Len even points to the sliver of green. 

"It's a wide line. Some stick to it rigidly enough to float walk everywhere. Others consume hot milk and honey." Starlet shrugs. Dropping the grass. Gaze set in the direction of the Underworld.

"Plucking grass is a far step from consuming milk and honey."

Scarlet shrugs again. "Maybe. The grass is still alive. I haven't plucked the roots. There's no stolen life. I won't." Gaze flashing with that spark of bitterness again. 

"No. I don't think you would." 

Scarlet barks a harsh laugh. Another gesture Len would expect from Mick but never a divine. 

"Is it because I'm a divine?" 

"Yes. It's your nature. Pushing the lines doesn't change that." 

‘And you would take a life because you're a demon." 

"It's my nature." Violence for violence. Death for death. 

"No. I don't think so. I don't think that's true at all." Scarlet shakes his head. Words gripped by tension. Shoulders tight. The lightening getting stronger. Irritation charging up and down his spine. No longer loose. No longer free a wild. He's vulnerability almost in Len's grasp. All he needs is to crush it. Exactly as he wanted. 

Len smirks. "Beliefs can't change the truth, Scarlet." 

"It can do exactly that Cold. Truth and knowledge are more than just the obvious. What do you think filters knowledge into truth?" 

Len tightens his hand into a fist hidden behind the hand that waves away Scarlet's words. Hardens, his smirk keeps his gaze ice-cold. "Things are just the way they are like the sky is blue." 

"Except it is it." 

Len growls and huffs. Not about to lose his cool because of some fucking divine. He stomps away. Ignoring all the green. Ugly compared to the vibrant jade of Scarlet's eyes. 

Scarlet, in turn, remained silent.

Forget him. Len has got a target now. The crystal heart. 

Except. 

Shit. He still doesn't have a way in. Maybe you can poke around elsewhere. No need for "divine" intervention.

**\---**

The Underworld might be a crumbling trash heap, but at least it's got a watering hole and alcohol. Two fingers of golden ambrosia could retcon an entire day for the better. Not that Len drank much more than that. As good as it tastes, one portion can represent nothing but danger. Probably why Mick drinks more than a fish. 

Said hot head is already flicking his lighter. Not that he needs one. But Mick was strange like that. Clutched in his other hand, was a losing line of cards. Which often spelled trouble. Because Mick never saw the value in a good bluff. Unlike Len. 

Lisa pours herself into Len's booth. Getting glitter everywhere and sipping some gold-colored drink. Watching Mick lose another hand. Unlike Len, she thrives off of Mick's chaos inducing temper. But then she doesn't have to pay for the mess. 

"Where's your usual book, Lenny?" 

"I'm planning something, Lise." 

"You don't usually plant outside the den, Lenny." 

"I've got a lot to think about this time. It isn't our usual gig. Requires more information."

"So your fishing?" 

"I am." 

"And how's that working for you?" 

Most demons think the divines are made up. Don't put much credibility on the three goddesses either. Len would agree. If Lisa's life wasn't clear proof of the Three Laws. If there wasn't a clear path to the Upperworld- locked or not. But most demons don't see that. Don't know what Len knows. They hear stories of a perfect being graced with the goddesses' love and beauty. Which cannot be tempted or corrupted. Of course, they conclude it couldn't be real. Only an ideal example to illustrate how low, malicious, and vicious demons are. 

Really. Divines being real only makes this truth worse. To know good is real. Goddess be damned. 

"I wouldn't call it a complete failure." "

"Because that's exactly what it is." 

"I didn't realize trainwrecks could be so mouthy. "

"Shut up Lenny." Said with the most affection Lisa could muster while rolling her eyes. 

Len rolled his pen between his fingers. He hasn't had much use for it tonight. "Lisa, what do you know if the divines?" 

"The bird people why? Did something happen at the bridge?" 

"Bird people?" 

"Yeah. Because they're supposed to have large white wings. They probably have hollow bones to fly better. bird people." 

Len wrote that down. At least it was something different. Not the same two myths regurgitated over and over again. Bird people. Maybe the wing thing influences other behaviors. It would give Len another point to research. He likes birds. 

Yet.

Scarlet doesn't give the impression of being a bird person. But his feathers are red, and his behavior feels on undivine of sorts. Could be the average divine paints an entirely different picture. Not that Scarlet isn't beautiful. 

"That's interesting. Anything else?" 

"You're ignoring my question, Lenny. Something did happen." 

"Lisa, nothing ever happens. I'm comparing the info of my books to the general populace. Getting an idea of what stuck from when the bridge was actually used." 

"That's it?" 

"That's it." 

"I want it on the record that I don't believe you. "

Len shrugs. "Fair enough. You got any other info?" 

Lisa twirls her drink. Only a small swallow remains. But it glitters under the light. Yet it pales in comparison to the vibrant color of Scarlet's wings. Even as powder. 

"They are supposed to be pure in all things. Or they lose their light. Because of that purity, they are susceptible to all the poisons of the realms. But in return, they can heal all that ails."

"Where did you learn that?" 

"From my mom. Apparently, it's the job of sound demons to keep alive our culture's traditions." 

"We have traditions?" 

"We do. Not that I remember much of what she said." 

"You were young." 

"As the songs go." Lisa grins downing the last of her drink. Slamming it down on the table. "I am a demon." 

A truth Len wishes he could deny. Lisa shouldn't have to wield her smiles like fangs, her nails like claws and her gold like armor. The gold she both loves and hates. As much as it shines rays of sunlight. Hold it, and gold is as cold as death. 

"Isn't Hartley a sound demon?" 

"You going to bug him next?" 

"Maybe." 

There's a sketch of a plan but not enough to work with. A location would be nice. Security summary would be better. But none of that matters if Len can't get into the Upperworld. Maybe he could convince Scarlet to steal it for him. But that's a longshot. And Len always prefers to be more hands-on. Scarlet might not even be there next time. Staying in the safety of the Upperworld would be the smart move. And his curiosity must've dried up by now. 

Sigh.


End file.
